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Early the next morning, the old lady sent one of the school children to ask Dr. Marsden to call in. The doctor was one of her old friends, and a pious and sensible man. He was fond of Agnes, and attended upon her in her indispositions, as he had done upon her mother during her last illness. He was quite alarmed at the appearance of the child, whom he had not seen for a month before, and recommended abundance of fresh air and gentle exercise. He also said that she must not read aloud so much. It is hard to say to which of the two, grandmother or child, this was the greater trial. But they both submitted, and endeavoured to acquiesce in the will of God.

Doctor Marsden often called, and took Agnes out in his chaise. During these pleasant drives along the river and to the shores of the bay, he was surprised and delighted at her knowledge of the Scriptures, and the simple innocence of her character. She seemed to him to be already a little heavenly creature, too fair and too frail for so rude a climate as ours. Truly of such, said he, is the kingdom of heaven.

Every day Agnes grew worse in body and happier in soul, and what she had fancied in the garden seemed more and more likely to prove true. Perhaps she had observed that rose-buds are plucked

as well as roses. Yet she did not know that she was sinking so fast, and was chiefly concerned about her aged grandmother, who grew weaker and weaker every day, until at length she could no longer leave her bed. This decay was no doubt hastened by her anxiety about the little girl. It soon became necessary for the doctor's nieces to stay all the time at the cottage.

Why should I dwell on the painful part of my story? At length the rose-bud was plucked by the Master of the garden, who has a right to every flower. Late one night in November, Agnes breathed her last in the arms of Phebe Marsden. Her last words were, Come, Lord Jesus! And not ten days after, her aged grandmother fell asleep in Christ, with the words of Stephen on her dying lips, Lord Jesus, receive my spirit!

CHRISTIAN UNION.

FREE, yet in chains, the mountains stand-
The valleys, linked, run through the land;
In fellowship the forests thrive,

And streams from streams their strength derive.

The cattle graze in flocks and herds-
In choirs and concerts sing the birds-
Insects by millions ply the wing,
And flowers in peaceful armies spring.

All nature is society

All nature's voices harmony

All colours blend to form pure light—
Why, then, should Christians not unite?

Thus to the Father prayed the Son,
"One may they be as we are one,
That I in them and thou in me,
They one with us may ever be."

Children of God, combine your bandsBrethren of Christ, join hearts and handsAnd pray, for so the Father willed,That the Son's prayer may be fulfilled:

Fulfilled in you; fulfilled in all,
That on the name of Jesus call;
And every covenant of love

They bind on earth be bound above.

Sheffield.

J. M.

THE WATER OF LIFE.

"COME, children," said Mrs. Maxwell, as she entered the room where they were amusing themselves, 66 come. The afternoon is cool and pleasant; put on your bonnets, and we will take our walk. Are you ready, my little Emily?" This question was addressed to a sweet child about six years old, who was quietly dressing her doll; but when her mother spoke, she jumped up quickly, and eagerly catching her hand, lisped, "Yes, yes, dear mother, Emily's all ready."

"And you, Mary and Julia," continued Mrs. Maxwell, turning to two young girls, apparently about twelve or thirteen years of age. "You do not seem quite as eager for your walk as usual: what are you reading that interests you so much?"

"It is a fairy tale, mother," said Julia, looking up from the book which she and her sister were reading; "it is a fairy tale brother Edward left behind yesterday, when he went back to boarding

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